Show Me What I'm Looking For
by Ash Ninja
Summary: Continuation of 'Don't Save Me'. You can't save someone who's already lost. He can only do that himself. All you can do is stand back and watch. But in certain circumstances, there's always an exception. Supermartian. High T for slightly adult themes.


**A/n: I seriously need to stop posting one-shots frequently... **The song featured is "Your Heart is an Empty Room" by Death Cab For Cutie and I promise only this chapter will feature song lyrics.****

****Note: The title of this story is inspired by a Supermartian video 'Show Me What I'm Looking for' made by ****KitsuneTenchi127**** on Youtube.  
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**Disclaimer: I don't own YJ.**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

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><p><em>Burn it down till the embers smoke on the ground<br>And start new when your heart is an empty room  
>with walls of the deepest blue <em>

It had taken only one spark from Pa Kent's cold, silver cigarette lighter before the whole house was engulfed in oxygen-craving flames.

The seventeen-year-old boy hadn't expected the small, innocent fire on the carpet to spread, nor had he anticipated them to jump hungrily onto the floral curtains and consequently onto everything in sight.

And least of all, Superboy had not imagined how _good_ he felt to hear the sound of peeling, crinkling blue wallpaper, to see the scorched leather couch and recliner chair and Ma Kent's prized China tea-set lying broken on the floor, and smell the intoxicating scent of burning wood. He did nothing to stop the fire, did not run for a hose, or the kitchen sink, or even the ceramic vase filled with sunflowers that sat on the coffee table. He watched everything burn with complete satisfaction, all because Superboy had discovered a week earlier that he was not an ordinary superhero…

After moving in with the Kents, Superboy expected things to be better, happier. That Superman, or in this case Clark, would come around to start spending more time with him. That his powers would fully start to kick in because there was a small sliver of hope inside of him; which thought he if Superman accepted him, then maybe he would find the answers to why he didn't have all the powers his 'father' did.

But instead of the expected help and bonding time Superboy thought he would get with Clark, Superboy had to milk cows, collect eggs and repair fences. There was no time to test his powers or talk to Clark. Between missions and ranch work, all Superboy could do was wait for Clark to come to him but this time on a fricking farm.

And that's when the deep brooding started, out of depression, and despite M'gann's loving attention and Ma Kent's comforting pats on the hand. Superboy lost all interest in his everyday life, his mind wondering off into the darker corners of his mind.

Superboy knew he had a small, unusual obsession with mindless violence. Ever since he was released from his Cadmus pod he would often ask Kaldur to spar with him, even after Kaldur had maybe dislocated his shoulder or broke a rib or two.

The Boy of Steel noticed his anger didn't just come out of frustration, but also from the loss of the adrenaline he got when one of his fists connected with another person's being; or how good it felt when he heard someone scream in pain.

After having a realistic and vicious dream, one night, of him standing over his friends with a bloody knife in his hand and amusement dancing in his eyes – he discovered he had truly lost control over his impulsive , angry backlashes. Or in this case his _venom_. He was part of the evolution – a _clone_, his DNA embedded with the pheromones that were used to enhance his growth. Superboy discovered on his own that the pheromones slowly altered and strengthened his feelings and impulses.

He simply began to _relished_ the very thought of someone crying in pain, or even imaged the feeling of skin breaking from underneath his touch.

The unfortunate thing was, as soon as Ma and Pa Kent found out about his pheromone based behavior, they _despised_ him for it. Superboy knew, he just _knew_ they called him an awful disease, an alien, a freak, and other names behind his back. This made him angrier than ever.

Ma Kent became distant and isolated from him. She could not, and would not look at him. Even when they sat across from each other at the dinner table, Superboy figured it was because she found the silverware drawer empty of all the knives and assumed he was using them for some sick experiment. After they had finished eating, she would say only one thing: _"Please clear the plates, Conner." _He didn't know how she did it, but she managed to pass him her empty plate without once meeting his searching eyes, and that hurt him far more than any punch Superman could throw at him.

So terribly sick and tired of being the innocent victim of Pa's skepticism and Ma's hurtful silent treatment, Superboy had finally taken matters into his own hands.

_The flames and smoke climbed out of every window  
>And disappeared with everything that you held dear<br>But you shed not a single tear for the things that you didn't need  
>Cause you knew you were finally free<em>

Having noticed he was trapped inside the sitting room, the flames encircling him like some tribal ritual, Superboy simply controlled them out of his way with his mind, and promptly left the room and quickly exited the premises, taking his Pa's Zippo lighter with him.

Once outside, he used all the energy he had to not reach for the hose as he watched the flames rise higher and higher, the flames inside the house shattering glass and surging through open windows to overcome the outer wood paneling and the corrugated iron roof. Pungent black smoke spiraled upwards and contrasted with the cerulean sky as the combustion consumed the house completely.

The fire burning in Superboy's bright blue eyes perfectly reflected how he felt inside about his adoptive grandparents, and his fucked up life. He no longer cared about anything except that he destroyed every inch of floor that had been echoing his silent tortured and frightened screams, while Ma had avoided his gaze whilst she had let her husband question him time and time again.

Suddenly, he heard sirens from an approaching fire engine, and for a split second, the fire completely went out as shock rattled Superboy's brain. But it could not overcome his anger, and so the fire returned once more and he bolted, running in the opposite direction until he could not run anymore.

Almost three hours had passed before Superboy thought it was time to head back to see the aftermath of his destruction. Walking back casually, he felt not only excitement but a sense of anxiousness as he approached the street. What if the neighbors' houses had caught alight along with his house, or his grandparents were standing there, waiting for him? But when he returned he was confronted by a most comforting sight.

It almost looked like a bomb had hit it. The once pretty little farmhouse house was completely obliterated by the fire he had started. Charred and blackened, giving off an awful smell, there was nothing left to distinguish it had even been there in the first place. The fire engine had gone, and his grandparents were nowhere in sight.

_And all you see is where else you could be when you're at home_

The blazing inferno had done its job, and Superboy, smiling satisfactorily, sauntered back down the street, whistling as if nothing had ever happened. He checked his pockets to make sure he still had everything; he would be bounding his way to New York in just a few hours where at long last he would be free

As soon as he had reached New York he was lucky enough to get through customs without people questioning what he was doing there alone, considering his young age. He had no luggage, just $10,000 American dollars he'd saved up from the League's many credit cards, American passport just in case someone asked for his ID and the clothes on his back, which included his favorite brown leather jacket.

In all truth he had no idea where he was going as he left the building, and it was bitterly cold outside. Superboy shivered as he hailed a taxi, to avoid any weird looks from onlookers and got in. The driver looked at him impatiently, revving the engine because he wanted to leave straight away. The first place that came to Superboy's mind was Times Square, and so he told the driver that's where he wanted to go.

_You stupid idiot,_ Superboy later told himself as the driver finally reached Manhattan and rushed through streets jam-packed with people and traffic.

He could easily be lost in a place like this. He had never been there before. But despite the uncomfortable nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, which told him that this was all one huge mistake, he couldn't help but feel awestruck at the sight of the buildings, billboards, advertisements left, right and center, and the colors and noises associated with the iconic square. Cars beeping their horns; people talking, laughing, yelling; mobile phones screaming to be answered – it was New York City and it was fascinating. But he couldn't help but note that they drove on the wrong side of the road. He told the driver this, who retorted,

"No, sonny boy, we drive on the _right_ side of the road."

Superboy had always been praised for his quick comebacks, and he replied almost instantly, "Sure, you might drive on the right side of the road, but back home we drive on the _correct_ side of the road."

The driver huffed and stopped near one busy intersection, and looked round at him expectantly.

"Well? I haven't got all day!" he said gruffly. Superboy furrowed his brows at his arrogance.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Forty-five Am-err-i-can bucks," the driver enunciated slowly, as if Superboy was illiterate.

"I'm not a foreigner; here's your money." Superboy practically threw it at him as he got out and slammed the door shut.

The taxi entered the slow-moving traffic jam and Superboy was glad to be out and into the clean, fresh air. Hang on, what fresh air? It wasn't exactly like breathing in pure oxygen, but at least it was better than being cooped up in that tiny farmhouse house in Smallville. Superboy smirked to himself as he remembered what was left of it now.

_And all you see is where else you could be when you're at home  
>And out on the street are so many possibilities to not be alone <em>

After such a long way, Superboy was not only feeling rather unhygienic but quite hungry. He had ran hundreds of miles and such a direct path made him feel out of sync with everything that was going on around him. Feeling slightly nauseous all of a sudden he walked over to the nearest bench on the sidewalk and sat down. He watched with tired eyes all the people walking by, the hustle and bustle of the crowds keeping him awake.

Suddenly, a girl about the same age as him came out of a building, laughing. Now, this would have been a normal occurrence if the girl hadn't actually _literally_ come out of the building. Superboy's eyes nearly popped out of his skull as he ducked his head and pulled his cap out of his pocket and put it on, tugging the bottom low over his eyes. Unable to help himself, he watched as another girl came out through the double doors of the entrance, and also laughing, joined her friend. _Could they be…_ he let his mind wonder. They couldn't be….

The second girl, who was lightly tanned with blond hair and dark eyes, pointed a bench next to the one Superboy was sitting on, and the two of them sat down together, the girl who had apparently walked straight through the wall closest to him. He listened to their conversation with interest.

"You better hope to God nobody saw me!"

"Oh M'gann, lighten up! If they did they probably would have blinked twice and got on with their life." Artemis insisted, nudging the taller girl.

"Easy for you to say, Artemis. If you accidentally stabbed somebody with your retracting arrows you can just say it was a pen or something." M'gann said, shaking her head.

From under his knitted cap, which he had picked up upon his arrival to the city, Superboy grinned in amusement at M'gann's accusation.

"Whatever. It was fun. Anyway, do you think we should head back to the Cave?"

"Probably, but I'm fine just sitting here for a moment."

"Listen, I'll be right back alright? I just remembered there's something I want to buy."

"Okay."

Superboy watched as Artemis got up and headed into the same shop they had just come out of, leaving him and M'gann alone. It was now or never – he had to know if she was one of _them_.

"Uh, excuse me?" He asked loudly, yet deepening his voice as he turned toward her. M'gann looked at him with large, innocent brown eyes. "This might sound a little crazy, but… did you just walk through that wall?"

The girl laughed nervously, and Superboy couldn't help but be entranced by her smile.

"Um, no, you must be mistaken," she replied.

"No. I'm sure I saw you do it," Superboy insisted with a slight smirk.

M'gann lowered her voice. "Please, I didn't do anything."

Superboy chuckled, and said, "Hey, you don't have to worry…" He pulled out the Zippo lighter from his pocket and demonstrated what he could do with the flame, letting it lick and bend around his fingers gracefully, and then with a flick of his wrist, the flames disappeared.

M'gann was in awe but he saw a flash of fear in her eyes. "That's amazing," she whispered, exhaling a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "I guess you've already figured out what I can do." She took her hand and let it fall right through Superboy's forearm in one quick, sudden movement.

"Whoa, that feels really weird," Superboy commented, rubbing a hand over his arm which was slightly tingling.

"Phasing, yeah. I'm not quite used to it myself. You're not from around here, are you?" She looked at him seriously this time.

"Neither are you, I'm assuming. But to answer your question, no, I'm not from around here. I have to admit, I don't even know where I am."

"Times Square, New York City?" M'gann offered, beaming.

Superboy almost smiled sincerely. "You know what I mean."

A thoughtful expression fluttered across M'gann's soft features and she looked at Superboy quizzically. Despite himself, Superboy felt the need to kiss her just one last time…

"What?" Superboy asked quietly. "Is there something wrong? You, uh, don't have a boyfriend sulking around here. You know, just waiting to beat guys up for just talking to you."

A light of uncertainty flickered in her eyes that made Superboy frown.

Why was she hesitating to say 'yes'? _He_ was her boyfriend after all!

"I… It's complicated," she said at last, ducking her head. "He's… complicated."

Superboy felt a pang of offensiveness stab at his side but asked, "Really? That sounds ... rough."

"No, he's wonderful… when he wants to be. Not the most talkative or affectionate person in the world but he expresses his feelings and himself in his own way." M'gann replied, wringing her hands together in her lap.

Oh yeah, in his own twisted and violent way…

"But, you like him because he's different, right?" Superboy pressed, knowing he was overstepping his boundaries.

"No," M'gann shook her head slightly.

A low growl began to rumble from deep inside his chest.

"I love him for it." She smiled at him dreamily, as if she were really talking to him. Which she _was_.

Superboy grinned at her from under his cap and said, "Well, I think he must really care about you too."

"I hope he does, I mean I know teenage romances don't last forever but… there's something really unique about him that tells me he's…" she paused, trying to find the right word.

"Special?" Superboy blurted out. She nodded in agreement. "What do you find so special about him?"

"He's just… He's my Conner and I'm his Megan. He's a really big part of my life," M'gann stated, her hand moving to rest over her heart in an almost symbolic way.

Superboy suddenly felt sick to his stomach from guilt and repulsion. "But what if he hurt you one day? Like… left or something without telling you?"

"He'd… I would image him having a good reason-" he cut her off, panic surging through him.

"What if he suddenly just stopped being in love with you? That he wanted something more than what you could give him and left because he was tired of the same BS he always got?" Superboy could feel his anger rising on its own accord. He had to leave. Soon.

"Um… Excuse me but you don't personally know my boyfriend, so I suggest you stop making accusations about him. He would never do anything like that to hurt me."

"Oh yeah, _sure_ he wouldn't." Superboy rolled his eyes. _How fricking blind are you?_

M'gann opened her mouth to reply when a low beeping sound came from her left ear. Superboy frowned in realization. It was M'gann's comlink.

Had the League finally found out he gone rouge? About his pheromones?

M'gann turned back to him and said, "Listen, it was nice meeting you, but..." her voice trailed off.

Superboy was already walking down the street before his now ex-girlfriend could finish her sentence.

_Things will only become harder for now_, he thought bitterly to himself.

Much, much harder.

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><p><strong>An: Prologue done and to clarify Superboy's behavior. The pheromones I mentioned here and in 'Don't Save Me' is making Superboy slowly lose control of his personality, racing and illogical thoughts and ultimately his sanity. And yes he still has his disorder developing. **Paranoid Schizophrenia**, rather then a Avoidant personality like I originally wrote. Or he could have both.  
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**Next chapter will feature the team's reaction to Superboy's leaving and M'gann has a sudden realization.**

**Reviews and criticism are well appreciated.  
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